Twitch Plays Pokemon Platinum
by Gengario
Summary: My name is Napoleon, and I used to hate Pokemon - until I got my own.


_"With the power I wield, I will create an entirely new world! The incomplete and ugly world we have now can disappear. I am resetting everything to zero. Nothing can remain. It is all for making the ultimate world. A world of complete perfection. Nothing so vague and incomplete as spirit can remain." -Cyrus_

* * *

Arceus almighty, do I hate Cyrus. I know, it's not hard to hate an amoral mastermind bent on destroying the universe and creating a new one where he is God. But it's even easier to hate him when his Honchkrow just stabbed its beak into your Roserade until she's little more than a pile of grass on the ground.

I used to hate Pokémon, and Cyrus represents every reason why. They're a bunch of vicious, power-hungry beasts, used by vicious, power-hungry humans to bully people around. My view of Pokémon had been changing, but damn if Cyrus didn't make me reconsider.

My memory of that defeat is crystal-clear, but everything afterwards is fuzzy. Cyrus gave me some bullshit speech, like he always does, but I was too pissed to listen. His Pokémon had _obliterated_ mine; the battle wasn't even close. I'm not even sure it was him, specifically, I was pissed at; I just hated the whole state of affairs I'd gotten myself into.

And then I was gone. No transition. One moment I was with Cyrus in the Distortion World, the next I was standing in the Hearthome Pokémon Center. No one seemed alarmed that a boy had just dropped in from another dimension. I don't know which legendary Pokémon was responsible for this. I _did_ know that all my effort to get to Cyrus – climbing Mt. Coronet, and defeating the Galactic Admins, and braving the Distortion World, not to mention that _fucking ledge_ – was for nothing. I'd have to do it all over again. Assuming Cynthia could halt Cyrus's progress for that long. Supposedly, time moves slower in the Distortion World, so there was still hope. Maybe.

The Voices were going crazy; it gave me a headache. I could barely control myself when they were like this. I needed some peace and quiet. If only….

* * *

I wandered around, catching Pokémon, walking in and out of Mt. Coronet. It felt pointless. I had to face Cyrus again, but no way could I beat him. And I saw, every now and then, little glitches in reality – barely noticeable, but I noticed. The Distortion World was leaking. My time was not unlimited.

* * *

When things get rough, I often spend some time in the Day Care. Why? I'm not sure. The couple that run it are nice, and they don't ask too many questions. It's a good way for my Pokémon to get some fresh air. And it's a good way to store Pokémon without using… the P.C. Ugh, just looking at those two letters makes me shiver.

Also, thanks to my… condition, I can't shuffle my Pokémon around easily. That old couple must think I'm crazy for using their service to rearrange Pokéballs on my belt. For the record: I'm _not_ crazy. Not like that boy in Kanto or in Johto. Not even like that girl in Hoenn, who I think was halfway faking it. The Voices are old and weak. They're in denial. They never had much control over me; and I was very good at passive-aggressively fighting what little control they did have.

Sane or not, I wasn't feeling so well. On top of all the emotional trauma, I had one hell of a headache. While Solareon and 006 (my Flareon and Bibarel) hung out in the Day Care, I went back to the Pokémon Center, to the corner where you could always find a group of people watching Pokémon Stadium on T.V., placing bets on which team would win; and I did the one thing that always makes me feel better: gambled. What? No, I'm _not_ addicted. Just because I like gambling, just because I keep checking how many coins I have even while navigating a nonsensical parallel universe, just because even in the middle battling gym leaders and Galactic admins, I think lustfully of the money I have riding on victory…

I'm, um, not making such a great case for myself.

Regardless, I lost every bet I made that night. It was that kind of night. And believe it or not, things only got worse from there.

First, I found out that my Flareon and Bibarel had made an egg in the Day Care. Oh boy. "By the way, your pokemon are doing fine," the old man told me. "But the two don't seem to like each other much." Oh _boy_. Intra-team drama was one thing we really did _not_ need right now.

Unfortunately, the next few hours were nothing _but _drama. A love triangle between my Shinx, Flareon, and Bibarel; an egg I had to put in the P.C.; an unexpected romance between my Roserade and a male Roselia I'd recently caught; another egg from them, which I had to reject; and all the while, my Golbat and Bronzong wondered why everyone else was getting all the attention. Meanwhile, my headache only got worse, and I developed a stomachache on top of it.

Oh, and Cyrus was still trying to destroy the world. So, you know. That was happening.

I left the Day Care without a clear destination. The Voices wanted to fight Cyrus again, so I did exactly _not_ that. I may have to live with these idiots, but I take every chance I get to subvert their will.

Instead, I went to Northern Sinnoh. Yeah, I exposed myself to a cold, snowy wasteland just to avoid saving the world. Sunshine walked alongside me, pouting. Arceus-damned drama queen. "If you wanted Solareon to like you, you should've _evolved!_" I snapped at her. That was way over the line. "I'm sorry," I told her. "I know it's not your fault."

I continued my trek through the snow, as if to torture myself out of guilt. My internal pain got worse and worse and worse…

* * *

Humans don't get Pokérus. Only Pokémon get Pokérus. Just another glitch in the universe, I suppose – because there I was, lying in bed, dying of Pokérus.

I spent a lot of time in that safe house on Route 216. Too sick to leave. Maybe forever. Outside, the universe slowly fell apart. In another universe, Cyrus and Cynthia fought for the fate of existence. And I _really_ wanted to gamble. …Okay, maybe I have a little problem.

That whole experience is a blur. But I remember rummaging through my bag, looking for something to help pass the time… and finding an old book I'd taken from the Canalave library. It'd been buried under all the books about Arceus and Giratina and whatnot, but this book interested me way more than those. A book about the curse I was now under – about the Cult of Helix.

_In the beginning there was chaos. From chaos came Anarchy. Through Anarchy, the Voices of Twitch Chat found the almighty Helix Fossil. Through the darkness of chaos, the Helix Fossil shone a light. The Helix Fossil led Red, the vessel of the Voices, through the perils of Anarchy, and became a beacon of hope…_

A bunch of old crap. The book went on about the Dome and Democracy and a heroic Pidgeot and an evil Flareon, and that was a bunch of old crap, too. Old and irrelevant, just like the Voices themselves.

Still, it struck a chord. Conquering chaos – I liked that idea. I always have.

* * *

And then I was back in the Day Care.

No, I didn't go back. I _was_ back. Sunshine and 006 were in the Day Care, and… nothing after that had happened. Sunbrella never had an egg. I didn't have Pokérus. I hadn't even gone to Route 216.

Time had reset. The laws of physics were falling apart.

I wish I could say that I celebrated my newfound health. But honestly, dying had been so relaxing. Now I had to go _do_ stuff. Like climb Mt. Coronet and find Cyrus and fight him for the fate of the universe.

Nah, screw that. Time to go gamble.

* * *

It's not the gambling itself that I love so much. It's the randomness. Sure, I don't have control – but neither does anyone else, and that's relaxing. Watching the roulette spin is pure chaos, pure Anarchy – and to place a bet is to try to understand and conquer the Anarchy.

Everything was awful. Cyrus was still undefeated; Sunshine still hadn't forgiven Solareon or 006; Sunbrella remembered the baby that never happened and the lover she would never meet; and Moonbat and Steve… actually those two were just fine. So they were the only Pokémon I kept with me as I played the slots in the Game Corner. And then I heard a familiar voice…

"DANCE RIOT!"

Oh boy. Pearl. Please don't see me… ah, he saw me. "Napoleon? Didn't think I'd see you here! Whatch'a sitting down for? Can't you hear this music? It's awesome!" The music _was_ awesome, and _did_ make me want to dance… but I could never let Pearl know that. I continued sitting and Pearl continued dancing. At one point, Pearl grabbed Steve with both arms and raised him over his head, shouting "RAISE YOUR BRONZONGERS!"

"Hey, get your own Bronzongers!" I shouted. If he was going to be like this, I had no reason to stay. Unfortunately, he followed me outside. "So tell me what happened!" said Pearl. "You know, with Cyrus and all – did you beat him?"

"Um… no," I admitted. "He won."

"Oh, that's a bummer," said Pearl. Yes, Pearl, the end of the world is such a "bummer".

"Hey, I have an idea!" Pearl said excitedly. "If you evolve your Shinx, you might beat Cyrus in the rematch!"

Holy crap, he's an even bigger idiot than I thought. "You seriously think I haven't thought of that? I _can't_ evolve Sunshine, remember?"

"Oh, right, I keep forgetting you're crazy."

"I told you, I'm not crazy. I'm just the victim of an ancient, Omanyte-worshipping cult."

"Oh, okay! That's totally not something a crazy person would say."

I sighed. Pearl continued. "You know that you don't have to put up with those Voices, right? The other people who've had them found a way to make them quieter. They called it Democ…"

"I don't _need_ Democracy," I told him for the umpteenth time. "I can deal with this on my own."

"That's what the girl in Hoenn said, and look at what happened to _her_."

"That girl was a show-off little brat who did things just for the sake of doing them."

"And you?"

"I do things for the sake of _not_ doing something else," I replied. "It's totally different."

"Napoleon, there's something I've been wondering," said Pearl. "On Mt. Coronet, when we had that double battle together, and you made your Pokémon attack mine… did the Voices make you do that?"

"Yes, that was them," I lied.

"Oooooh. I thought you were just being a jerk."

"What? Don't be insulting!" I was totally just being a jerk.

"And what you did to Chimchar – that was them, too?"

Just like that, the conversation got serious. "I don't know," I answered. "Maybe. They… have a thing about fire-types. A lot of them wanted her gone. But… I could have stopped them. Easily. But I didn't. I only chose Chimchar because I didn't want her – you know I do that sort of thing all the time. And it helped that I hated Pokémon to begin with. I did nothing to help her. I don't know if it's my fault. Nowadays, it's hard to tell the difference between my own will and the will of the Voices." I'd never been this frank with Pearl before.

"And you still don't want Democracy? Even if it stops them?" Pearl asked.

"That would be conceding defeat. I want to _conquer _them. That's why I have a Flareon. I used a Fire Stone on my Eevee just to spite them."

"Really? I thought it was just part of the whole Sun theme your team has going on."

"Well, that too," I said. "It's all part of the same thing. Sinnoh's a cold, harsh region, and I'm going to bring some sunlight into it. And these Voices – if they're so scared of fire-types, I'll bring them some damn _heat_. Conquering Sinnoh and conquering the Voices – it's all the same thing to me." Any other day, I'd be embarrassed to tell Pearl any of this.

"Wow," said Pearl. "I guess your parents knew what they were doing when they named you."

I smiled. That was unusual. Very unusual. Before Pearl could give me crap about it, I asked him a random question. "Hey, Pearl – what would you do if you encountered a legendary Pokémon?"

"What? Well, duh! I'd catch it and use it to beat the Elite Four and become the Champion! Wouldn't you?"

"I'd just give it a Pokédoll and walk away."

"Um… you sure you aren't crazy?"

"That's definitely me talking, not the Voices – _they _would want to catch it. That's why I've been wasting my Pokéballs on every useless Pokémon I find. I don't care what they want. Legendaries have it rough. Millions of people are after them. If I actually encounter one, I'd want to show that I have nothing to prove, and just give it something to remember me by."

"Wow, Leo. And you told me you hated Pokémon."

I smirked, but otherwise didn't respond. "I have to go," I told him. "I'll never beat Cyrus if I don't train my Pokémon. And, frankly, I'd rather do it alone."

* * *

I remember sitting on the beach that night, staring at the sky. The stars were beautiful – and, if you looked carefully, a few of them were out of place. A reminder of what I had to do.

Sunbrella sat on my lap, acting all melancholy. I didn't blame her. But I couldn't let my team get their heads stuck in all this drama. My other Pokémon were out on the beach… trying to settle their differences. "Sunshine, Solareon, 006 – for goodness sake, play nice! Whatever happened between you, get over it! That goes for you too, Sunbrella. And Moonbat – don't think I haven't seen you hiding in the shadows, laughing at all this. Be part of the team, not the peanut gallery. And Steve…" I thought about it. I had nothing to say to Steve. "…Keep doing what you're doing.

"Tomorrow we go back to the Distortion World. And this time I'd prefer if we _didn't_ suck."

They were an unruly lot, my team, and getting them to settle down was hard. Hard, but worth it. Because I love Pokémon, especially mine. They're so unpredictable, so random – for all the trouble this egg drama has caused me, you can't say it wasn't interesting. I used to think that Pokémon training was just a show of muscle by insecure people who borrowed the muscle from another species – but that's not entirely true. These creatures are like us – they all have their own inexplicable sets of behaviors. To train them is to conquer the randomness inherent in all beings. You have to make a lot of bets, take a lot of chances… It's similar to what the Voices are trying to do to me, or maybe to themselves; their motives have never been all that clear.

Life, every level of it, is all just Anarchy in the end. I don't have a mental illness. I'm more or less as crazy as everyone else.

That's what Cyrus wants to end. He calls it "strife" and "spirit", but I understand him. It's chaos and randomness he's after; it's an Anarchy-free world he wants to create, one where he inputs every command. No more drama between Pokémon, no more arguing Voices. Worst of all, no more gambling. (Just kidding that time. I think.) Cyrus wants an ordered, predictable world.

No more strife means nothing left to conquer. I couldn't let that happen. Pearl was right – if my parents hadn't wanted me to become a conqueror, they should've given me a different name.

I looked behind me. Mt. Coronet's peak hung in the sky; you could see it almost anywhere in Sinnoh. Ever since my defeat, looking at that peak made me sick to my stomach. Not anymore. Now it excited me. Now, I knew what I was fighting for.


End file.
